


If Anyone Sees Us, You're Deaf and I Don't Know Sign Language

by thatonedudewiththename



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blind Vinny, Deaf Mark, Disability, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Angst, One Shot, Quick Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonedudewiththename/pseuds/thatonedudewiththename
Summary: When Vinny found out that his partner for his music final was a deaf guy, he was convinced that he had the worst luck in the world— since, you know, he's blind and all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this mostly for myself

     Waking up to an empty, pitch black darkness always scared Vinny, no matter how many times it'd happened or how long he's been blind, which is a while, to say the least. Sighing a little after having calmed down from his initial shock, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up, turning right and walking exactly five steps to the closet of his dorm room, reading the Braille tags for something to wear— his Star Trek shirt and those jeans that he's been meaning to wash for a month? Sure, why not, it's not like anyone would be able to tell if they were dirty due to the fact that everything in his room smelled like cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. As he got dressed and pressed the button on his alarm clock so it would tell him the time, he heard the door to the dorm open and his roommate Joel's voice. "Oh, you're up already," He said, his feet shuffling back and forth.  
     "Hey Joel," Vinny slipped his shirt over his head, "Where were you?"  
     "Getting lunch,"  
     Ah, OK, _now_ the scent of food was registering; he was still half-asleep, so it took him a little while to get all of his necessary senses functioning at maximum capacity. He sniffed, pausing in pulling his pants up his legs to guess, "Get me anything from... Burger King?"  
     Joel made a noise of displeasure and snapped his fingers. "Dammit, I thought I could trick you this time!"  
     Vinny huffed an airy laugh. "Yeah, good luck with that,"  
     The rustling of a paper bag over to his left, followed by the squeaking of the springs on Joel's bed. "I got you a spicy chicken burger 'n some fries, hope that's alright,"  
     "Sounds fine, not like I'll eat all of it anyway,"  
     "Rude,"  
     Vinny finished getting dressed, then yanked on some socks and slipped into his shoes, asking Joel while he unplugged his phone from its charger, "Weather?"  
     "You'll need a hoodie, but that's about it,"  
     A hoodie was grabbed and put on, Vinny then taking up his bag and unhooking his walking stick from the side, flicking it out to uncollapse it. "See ya, Joel,"  
     "Later man, don't get run over,"  
     "No promises."  
     Ten steps until he reached the door, and then he was gone, out into the hallway of the dorm building and then left towards the exit. He forgot about the burger and fries.

     To get to his music class, he needed to go right for twenty steps, then slightly left for thirty five until he reached what he'd been told was a vending machine; parallel to it was one of the buildings— coincidentally, the one he needed to be in, or so he'd been told when they'd first walked him around the campus way back when, during his first week of class freshman year. Now a senior, he knew the campus like the back of his hands, which wasn't a very good analogy since he couldn't see his hands, but it was the only one that made sense.  
     Inside the building, Vinny felt along the wall for the stairs, finding the handrail and rounding the corner to walk up them to the second floor, where his music class was the third door from the end of the hall on his left hand side. Most of the Braille on the nameplates next to the doors in all of the buildings had been worn down before he'd started attending classes here, but during the summer of his third year, they'd replaced all the nameplates, so it was a little easier to get around now; no more walking into the wrong class. Counting the doors with his fingers, the tips running along the wall as he walked, he stopped at the class he always did and read the number for reassurance as he strode inside, the gentle clacking of his metal walking stick against the laminate floors the only sound in the room, besides the professor, who was discussing the project finals for the upcoming end of the year. "...don't want any of you to hold back, alright? We're all adults here— ah, Vincent, nice of you to join us,"  
     "I don't know who that is," Vinny said as he smacked his walking stick down onto the floor next to his seat— the first one on the right in the back, impossible to miss— to collapse it, then hooking it to his bag before he sat down.  
     "Well, whoever you are, for your final project of the year, you'll be doing a collaboration with one of your colleagues in this class—"  
     "Do we get to choose?" Cut in a student from behind him.  
     "No, Geoff, _you_ don't, but everyone else can. The only request is that you choose someone with different music tastes and style preferences from you. Other than that, you're free to create whatever you'd like, as long as it's more than twenty minutes long, has vocals in at least three songs, a lyric and music sheet, and, if you want, album art, though it's optional and moreso extra credit,"  
     Great, _partners;_ Vinny hated working with anyone that he didn't know personally, especially not on _music._ God dammit. He groaned under his breath and placed his head on his arms on his desk, zoning out for the rest of the class, which wasn't hard to do since he had nothing to focus on besides the unmoving dark of his vision. He only began to pay attention again when he heard the professor call his name at the end of class, which he assumed to be so since he heard feet moving and the shuffling of bags and laptops. Not bothering to use his stick since there was a line of desks all the way down to where his professor was, he scooped up his bag and stepped slowly down to him, coming to a stop when the professor said, "Don't bump into your new partner,"  
     In front of him, he could sense a presence blocking his way, raising his brows and strafing to instead stand next to the person. "Sorry, didn't see you there," He said.  
     "Stho you're Vincthent?" Said an unfamiliar voice, their slight lisp a good distinctive feature for when Vinny needed to find them in a crowd.  
     "Who?" Vinny replied, "My name is Vinny, I don't know a Vincent,"  
     "Vinny, turn ninety degrees and face him," His professor told him.  
     Vinny did so, catching a whiff of the cologne the person was wearing— something musky and kind of spicy. It was nice. "Ok, now that you two can probably communicate now," The professor began, "Vinny, I'd like to introduce you to your partner for the final, Mark Fischbach—"  
     "Nice to meet you, Mark," Vinny cut in a greeting, earning him a loud throat clearing from his professor.  
     "I'm not done, Vinny, goddammit. I partnered you two because you're both disabled,"  
     Vinny did jazz hands. "Oh wow, great, I feel so included and safe amongst my brethren,"  
     The exasperated exhale that he heard his professor breathe out gave him a clear image of what his unwarranted sarcasm was doing. To confirm that, he heard Mark say, "From what I can tell, thisth is not a pleasthant conversthation,"  
     "It's okay Mark, Vinny's always like this," The professor said, then going on with, "Vinny, Mark is deaf, alright?"  
     Wait... "What? He's deaf?"  
     "Yes,"  
     "Then... how is he in a music class?"  
     "He's a lyricist."  
     Ok, that made sense. "Alright, whatever, I've got other classes to get to," He said, taking out his walking stick and snapping it open.  
     "Mark'll walk with you,"  
     "I guess,"  
     Feet stepping around him, and then a tug on his left sleeve followed by Mark's kind of quiet voice as he walked. "Do you actually have clasthesth, or..."  
     Vinny scoffed, facing Mark so he could read his lips as he spoke. "You think I attend more than one class a day? Yeah right,"  
     The laugh that Mark let out was very smooth and baritone, a soothing sort of sound that gave Vinny goosebumps, though he attributed that to the chill breeze that bit into his skin through his hoodie. "Well, sthincthe that wasth my lasth clasth for today, want to hang out? We can go to your dorm or sthomething if you'd like,"  
     Seemed like Vinny's actions earlier did not deter Mark's seemingly friendly behaviour— that, or he just hadn't heard him. Whatever. Facing him, he articulated, "Will we be alone?"  
     "Why do you asthk?"  
     "I just feel awkward around other people's roommates if I don't know them,"  
     "Oh, I understhtand. I'm pretty sthure Jack hasth band practicth right now, stho we should be,"  
     "Alright, well, lead the way,"  
     The tugging on his sleeve returned, guiding Vinny along towards Mark's dorm, which seemed to be on the other side of the campus. After a couple minutes, the metallic clanking of the dorm building door signalled that they'd arrived, Vinny feeling Mark let go of his sleeve and say, "Fifth door on the right,"  
     "Okay,"  
     One, two, three, four— oh. The fifth door was open, the sound of drums and cymbals being banged against the only thing he could hear, which kind of hurt his very sensitive ears. Past that, there were voices, both male as far as he could tell, one kind of familiar. "Dude, hurry the fuck up, we're already late for fuckin' practice!"  
     Joel? What was he doing here?  
     "Alright, I'm hurryin', Jesus," That must've been Jack, Mark's roommate. Shit, he didn't want to be seen by him... Feeling around for the dorm next to the one he was in front of, he twisted the handle and walked inside, tapping his stick on the floor to make it more obvious to anyone in the room he'd just barged into that he was blind. "Jackson? You here, bro?" He called out, unzipping his hoodie and swinging his bag off of his shoulder. "I got your text about needing a handj—"  
     "Wrong room! Wrong room!" Cried the occupants of the room.  
     "Oh, sorry,"  
     He turned around and left, just in time to hear Jack and Joel's voices as well as their feet go bustling down the hall away from him, relief washing through his veins just as he heard Mark say, "You didn't have to avoid them that drasthtically,"  
     "I like being dramatic," Vinny replied. "Where am I, I got turned around,"  
     "Facing the exit; turn left and my dorm isth right in front of you,"  
     Vinny did so, and sure enough, it was, using his stick to find a bed and sit on it, taking off his shoes and hoodie and dropping his bag to the floor. "Oh, you found my bed on the firstht try," Mark said, Vinny hearing the door close and the lock turn. "In front of you and to your right is the kitchen area and the closthet, in front of you isth Jack'sth bed, to the left a little isth the desthk we share, and then at the foot of my bed isth my dresther,"  
     "So the same layout as my room," Vinny commented, more to himself than anything.  
     Mark didn't reply, which had Vinny assuming that he wasn't looking at him right now; his brain, on the subject of looks, went off on the tangent of wondering what Mark looked like. Usually, Vinny would just ignore it, but his brain continually persisted, making him get up and feel around for Mark so he could ask him. He walked over to where Mark had said the closet was and outstretched his arm, the sensation of warm skin under his fingertips causing him to recoil a bit. Feet shuffling as Mark questioned, "Hmm? What isth it?"  
     "I'm curious as to what you look like," Vinny answered; now that he'd thought about it some more, this was kinda weird.  
     "Oh, uhm, would it be easthier if I desthcribed mysthelf, or if I let you touch my face and whatnot?"  
     "Touching you, probably,"  
     "Okay,"  
     His hand was taken and led back to the bed, where they sat down together, Vinny turning to where he thought Mark would be and saying, "Let me know if it gets weird,"  
     "Alrighty,"  
     Doing his best to concentrate on creating a mental image of him, he reached out his hands and began to feel Mark with his fingers, discovering his face first and dragging his index finger along the curve of Mark's... jaw? Yeah, jaw, with his stubble pricking the pad of his finger and making him kind of itchy. "What colour is your hair?" He asked, placing his palms flat on Mark's cheeks.  
     "Dark brown, almostht black. The long part of my undercut isth red," Mark replied. "You know what coloursth look like, right?"  
     "I have a vague memory of them, yes,"  
     "Ok, good, becausthe I don't know how to desthcribe that shit,"  
     Vinny laughed a little to himself and continued to look at Mark with his hands; glasses, wire-rimmed it seemed like, with a strong jaw and cheekbones; slanted eyes with a second eyelid— Asian? "You're Asian?"  
     "Korean, sthpecthifically, but yeah,"  
     "Mm," Vinny kept touching him, mapping out a picture of what he thought Mark looked like: straight brows, prominent brow bone, undercut, really soft skin, heavy stubble... from what he could tell, fairly attractive, at least by conventional standards. "What colour is your skin?"  
     "I'm like a medium dark— not exactly tan, not exactly dark. I have a yellowish orange undertone sthince I'm only half Korean,"  
     "And your eyes?"  
     "Molasthesth brown in regular light, deep amber in bright sthunlight,"  
     Nodding, Vinny moved his hands down to Mark's neck and shoulders. Bare shoulders, he noted. "Did I catch you in the middle of changing?"  
     A chuckle. "Justht a little bit,"  
     He didn't seem bothered by that fact, which was probably because he knew that Vinny couldn't see him. Brushing that thought aside just like he did with everything else in life, Vinny focused on his image of Mark, noticing how huge his arms and chest felt and kind of furrowing his brows. They were firm, so he wasn't fat (not that it mattered, Vinny wasn't in that great of shape either), which meant that it had to be all muscle. "You're jacked, Mark, what the fuck," He commented.  
     "I work out sthome. Rock climbing, mosthly,"  
     Vinny decided not to think on that for too long and kept going, sliding his hands lightly down Mark's arms and hands, the veins rising prominently against his skin confirming that he did indeed work out— not that he thought Mark was lying or anything. He went back to touching Mark's chest, slipping his palms down over the bumps and curves of his muscles to his stomach, then around to his very small waist and up his sides, which made Mark squirm and giggle. "That ticklesth," He told him.  
     "Sorry," Vinny said, smiling some as his hand travelled towards Mark's surprisingly wide hips and large thighs, if his not being able to feel them in just one drag of his hands over them anything to go by. He was only wearing boxer briefs, and silky ones at that, which had him saying, "Expecting some action later?"  
     "Huh?"  
     "Your underwear," Vinny felt the fabric between his fingers, "I don't usually wear my weekend panties to class unless I'm expecting someone to see them,"  
     "Oh," Mark began to laugh. "I just like how comfortable they are. And besthidesth, sthomeone _isth_ stheeing them, kinda,"  
     "I suppose that's true," Vinny sat back and let his hands fall to his sides. "Alright, I'm done feeling you up,"  
     "Damn, I wasth sthtarting to enjoy it,"  
     "Shut up,"  
     He heard the squeaking of the springs and felt the bed bounce. "Stho whaddaya think? Would you not mind being stheen with me?" Mark asked from a little further away, somewhere behind him. Vinny turned around before he answered.  
     "From what I can tell, you're pretty presentable,"  
     "Yeah, whatever." Mark's tone of voice was joking. Vinny heard the rustling of clothes. "Stho, what do you want to do? We can sthtart working on the project if you want,"  
     "I don't want to think about school right now, actually."  
     The sound and smell of spray deodorant, the same scent from earlier. "How about lunch? I haven't eaten,"  
     At the mention of food, Vinny remembered the bag still on the desk at his dorm and turned up his mouth— knowing Joel, he would've probably already eaten it by the time Vinny got home from class, so... "Sure, I haven't eaten, either," He agreed.  
     "Anything in particular you want?" Fabric against fabric, the gentle tapping of laces against a shoe.  
     Vinny shook his head. "I don't get out much, so I don't really know what's around here,"  
     "That didn't ansthwer my questhtion,"  
     "Whatever you want, man, I'm not picky,"  
     A tug on his arm, Mark's warm hand encircling his forearm and something soft being pressed to his chest. "It'll be a sthurprise, then,"  
     Grabbing the soft thing and realizing it was his hoodie by the smell, he stood up and slipped it on, allowing Mark to take his hand and lead him out of the room, hearing Mark close and lock the door behind him, along with the jingle of keys. As he was taking his hand, he asked, "You don't mind, do you?"  
     Weirdly enough, Vinny didn't; even though they'd just met, he felt very... comfortable? Was that the right word? Around Mark. Something inside of him that'd felt empty for the longest time, that had been desolate for so long he didn't even know, didn't even remember was there until now, was beginning to feel warm and heavy, as though it was being filled up by... by what? Vinny didn't know, but he didn't need to be thinking about this right now. "No, it's okay," He said aloud, turning to Mark so he could read what he was saying.  
     "Good," Mark was smiling, Vinny could tell by his voice. He tried not to think about how Mark must've looked when he did so.  
     Outside, it was colder than when they'd been out there last, causing Vinny to pull his hoodie tighter around him; he felt Mark squeeze his hand and heard him exclaim, "Ooo, it'sth cold out!" In the stupidest voice Vinny had ever heard. Regardless, he laughed, facing where he thought Mark was and running a hand through his hair. Mark laughed along lightly, silence following soon after, which felt kind of weird, though why Vinny couldn't decipher. It must've been noticeable to Mark, because he said, "To be weird, you look pretty when you laugh,"  
     "How's that weird?" Vinny had a laugh on the edge of his voice, but it was more out of anxiety than anything.  
     A beat before Mark replied. "I justht thought maybe you'd think it wasth weird, me calling you pretty,"  
     "Not at all."  
     Mark sighed in relief in a very exaggerated way, again making Vinny chuckle. "Thank God, I wasth worried there for a sthecond,"  
     "Nah, you're alright. I mean—" He hesitated a second, contemplating not saying what he was thinking for only a split second before he continued on with, "Just a bit ago I was thinking about how you must look when you smile. Probably really cute, right?"  
     "Oh shush," Mark's voice had a grin in it. "My sthmile is lopsthided and I have no eyesth,"  
     "Neither do I,"  
     That deep, rolling thunder laugh from Mark, the one that made the pit of Vinny's gut twist and ache. In all reality, he both hated and loved it.  
     By this time, they'd made it to Mark's car and got inside, Vinny getting in the passenger seat, Mark letting go of his hand and opening the door for him, if the click of the door handle and his cheery "Here ya go!" Was anything to go by.  
     It was cold in the car and it smelled like freshly cut grass, though more artificial; Vinny assumed it was a car freshener and felt around for his seatbelt, finding it about ten miles behind him and buckling himself in. "Why is the seatbelt so far back?" He asked Mark when he heard the driver side door open.  
     Upon receiving no reply, he flailed his arm around until it made contact with Mark's shoulder, which earned him a questioning "Hmm?"  
     "Why was my seatbelt so far back?" Vinny reiterated.  
     "Oh! Your stheat is pushed up permanently, sthince the handle to move it isth broken,"  
     "Ah, ok,"  
     There was a click, then staticy music being played. "You can change the sthtation if you want, I'll listhen to anything," Mark told him, snickering at his own joke.  
     Vinny rolled his eyes but reached for the radio dials, fumbling on all the buttons for a couple seconds; a hand— Mark's, presumably— settled onto his and lead it to a knob, then slowly pulled away, the fingers dragging along his arm, if only for a second or two. The tension that suddenly hung in the air between them had Vinny shifting his weight in his seat and gripping the tuning knob a little tighter. "Thanks," He said, throat kind of dry.  
     "No problem," Mark sounded calm. He probably wasn't— that, or he was just incredibly dense— because there was no way he couldn't feel the tension, the electricity in the front seat of the car. But then again, Vinny was more sensitive to these kinds of things, thanks to only having four senses.  
     Doing his best to shake it off, he changed the station.

∆

     Lunch was at the Subway a few blocks away, if Vinny's sense of direction was working right and the distinct smell of bread and meat didn't let him down. He ordered a turkey sub with wheat bread, Colby Jack cheese, light dressing, and all the fixings, while Mark got a toasted Italian sub with swiss cheese and only lettuce and tomatoes with nothing else. Two bags of chips and drinks later, they were off back to the dorm, though why Mark didn't want to eat at the shop Vinny didn't know; the car ride was short regardless, and before he knew it he was back on Mark's bed eating his sandwich and hearing Mark change out of his clothes. Being sure to get his attention first, he swallowed his bite of food before he said, "I have a question for you,"  
     The rustling stopped. "What?"  
     "In the car, when you touched my hand, did you feel that... tension?" Why Vinny wanted to know this, he'd never know, but it was out in the air already, so no going back now.  
     Silence for a second, then a reply. "Yeah, sort of,"  
     Vinny heard Mark walk past him, the bed creaking and shifting to announce a new arrival. There was the crinkling of wax paper, the crunch of bread and lettuce, and nothing more said. Vinny began to feel like he was the only one who felt their connection, how easily they slipped into a relationship of understandable communication with each other, the way Mark seemed to always be making excuses to touch him and how Vinny didn't mind in the slightest; was he just making all of this up? Was he _that_ lonely and _that_ desperate for someone to love him that he would read impossibly far into any attention he received in order to find evidence that yes, the person you're clinging onto _does_ like you and wants you around? It made him sick to his fucking stomach to think that Mark was just doing all these nice things because he felt sorry for him and only wanted to be around him long enough for them to finish the project, then would leave at the closest opportunity. As many times as he reminded himself that Mark was disabled, too, and had no real reason to be so nice other than that he was just like that, Vinny's brain continued to overthink at the speed of light as dizziness and nausea resulted and made him place a hand on the bed and on his head to try and ground himself. As he did so, Mark's voice rang out. "Are you alright?"  
     Contact on his upper arm; Mark was touching him, stroking his arm gently in a way that felt concerned. It set Vinny on edge. "I'm just over thinking. Since I can't see it's hard not to be in your own head, you know?" He told him, trying to sound humoured but failing.  
     "What about?"  
     Vinny turned up his mouth and raised his eyebrows, doing his best to work past the insane urge he had to rip out his own vocal cords so he wouldn't have to respond. "Well... I was thinking, like," He scratched his head. "You don't feel sorry for me, do you? Like pity-wise?"  
     More crunching. "I don't sthee why I would. I mean, you're obviousthly independent and can get around justh fine on your own, you're sthmart and funny and don't let the fact that you can't sthee deter you from doing the thingsth you enjoy, stho... No, I don't," Mark said.  
     The anxiety that was squeezing Vinny's chest began to loosen and dissipate, leaving him feeling breathless. "Then... why are you so nice to me?"  
     Crinkling of the wax paper again, followed by the sound of bags and liquid with ice in it being moved somewhere; afterwards, the sensation of Mark moving closer to him immediately making his heart rate shoot up. "Vinny, listhen to me, ok? Not everyone hasth to have a motive for being nice; sthome people are justh kind-hearted and want to be your friend. Asth for me, I..." Mark trailed off for a second. "I've stheen you in clasth, and with how you look it'sth kinda hard not to sthtare," A nervous laugh. "You alwaysth look stho lonely, stho I thought by getting paired with you for thisth project we could get to know each other. And to be honestht, I'm really lonely, too, like don't get me wrong, Jack isth my friend, but we can't really connect becausth he could never understhtand how I feel, how my life isth and what I go through every day not being able to properly communicate with anyone. With you, it'sth justh... easthier."  
     Before Vinny could say anything, he felt Mark take his hand. "That, and I might have a bit of a crush on you. Maybe,"  
     Everything inside of Vinny flitted around against his stomach and ribcage, and he could tell that his expression was wide-eyed and open mouthed, so he closed his lips and raked his fingers through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear only to feel it fall in his face again. "You watched me in class?" He said, trying not to make it obvious that he was swooning like a thirteen year old in front of a cute substitute teacher.  
     "Yeah, well, you're really, really attractive. Like, _sthuper_ hot. And the way you carry yoursthelf, your persthonality, it'sth even more attractive to me,"  
     Vinny chewed his bottom lip and sensed how warm his face was getting, wanting to die due to it— when was the last time he was flustered by anything? Years ago, probably. "That's kinda gay, Mark,"  
     "In casthe you couldn't tell Vinny, I'm gay,"  
     "So am I,"  
     Shifting of the bed, Vinny sensing Mark lean into him by how much of his breath he could feel on his skin; it smelled like wintergreen. Had he been chewing gum? "What're you gonna do about it?" He whispered, his chest tightening and lips trembling in anticipation.  
     "Dunno. Maybe..." Mark's hands found their way onto either side of him, judging by the dip in the bed on his left and right. "Thisth?"  
     Lips met lips and Vinny was falling, his head spiralling out of control as all he felt was the sensation of Mark threading his fingers through his hair, pulling their bodies closer together, and slipping his tongue into his mouth; Vinny shuddered and gripped the back of Mark's head, gasping when Mark yanked on his hair. "Keep doing that," He breathed, pulling back so Mark could read his lips. "Keep— pull,"  
     "Your hair? Pull your hair?" Mark asked.  
     Vinny nodded with felicity. Mark fisted his hand in Vinny's hair and snapped his arm away from his scalp while twisting, the sharp pain causing Vinny to arch outwards and moan obscenely. His eyes rolled back into his head as a surge of arousal shot straight to his dick; over his heady horniness, he heard Mark groan, "God, you look stho fucking sthexy, even the vibrationsth you're making are turning me on,"  
     Vinny moaned in a higher pitched voice than usual and reached down to undo his jeans, Mark's voice breathless as he commented after he'd pulled his dick out of his pants, "Fuck, Vinny, you're gorgeousth,"  
     Heat pooled in Vinny's groin at Mark's words, some of it travelling up to his face, chest, and shoulders— he probably looked so gay right now, but he didn't have the capacity to care, not when Mark was sucking him off and continuously rambling about how fucking beautiful he was.

     Ringing of a phone and intense vibrations woke Vinny from his deep sleep— he could tell it was, because his fingertips were tingling and his head felt heavy. _"Joel calling. Joel calling. Joel calling."_ Was repeated over and over until Vinny managed to find his phone at the foot of the bed in the back pocket of his pants after patting around for a little while. Answering it, he mumbled, "What?"  
      _"Yo dude, where the fuck are you? It's three am, you know you're not supposed t' be out this fuckin' late,"_ Scolded Joel on the other end.  
     Everything came back to Vinny in a rush of information; he was in Mark's dorm, they'd given each other blowjobs and then finished their lunch, wrote some lyrics for their project, and then had sex. They'd fallen asleep some time afterwards, while Mark had been teaching him sign language. "Oh, sorry man, I was working on my final project with my partner and fell asleep. I'll head back now," He said, not exactly lying but not telling the whole truth either.  
      _"No, don't worry about it, I was just worried about ya bein' gone for so fucking long. Warn me next time you're gonna stay out, okay? Jesus,"_  
     "Sure thing," Vinny yawned. "Is that it? I'd like to sleep more,"  
      _"Yeah that's it. Actually wait, what dorm are you in? I can bring you some clothes for tomorrow,"_  
     "I can't exactly check,"  
      _"Right right, fuck. Uhm, forget it, I'll just see you later, I have a show in a couple minutes,"_  
     "Okay. Later, Joel,"  
      _"Adios."_  
      _Beep_ went the phone, signalling that Joel had hung up. Vinny lightly tossed his phone away from him with a flick of his wrist and sighed, rubbing his face, his left leg hanging off the mattress and body feeling sweaty and dirty. Falling back onto the bed, he curled up on his side and went back to sleep.

∆

     Sometime later that day, after Vinny had gotten dressed, left Mark's dorm for his own so he could get ready to go to class, and had texted Mark that he's sorry to bolt out before he woke up but he needed to type up the lyrics to their project and get started on a beat and to join him when he could at his dorm, Mark texted him while he was getting out of the shower that it was alright, he'd come and see him after class later today. Two hearts were sent in reply, then Vinny continued on with his after-shower routine, deciding not to shave since Joel wasn't around to help him; afterwards, he grabbed all of his clothes and headed out into his dorm, tossing them on his bed and dropping his towel from around his waist so he could slip into his lounge clothes, which were basically his pajamas. Thanks to nothing in his room having ever been moved since he'd first gotten the room three years ago, he knew the layout very well and didn't have to worry much about not being able to find something or getting bruises from bumping into stuff, so getting dressed and setting everything up to start working on his laptop was fairly easy and happened quickly.  
     Joel hadn't been here since he'd gotten home, and he knew he wasn't at class because he tripped over his book bag walking in the room; he was probably passed out on some dude's sofa, full of alcohol and weed from the after party of his metal show last night. Yeah, that was right, he'd been playing a show with that one Jack guy. He was probably with him. Sound in that, Vinny opened his laptop and turned it on, cracking open his ginger ale but not taking a drink yet, instead placing it on the coaster next to his notebook.

     "You sthure you want me to sthing thisth part?" Mark asked, Vinny hearing him turn the lyric sheet over and over. "Wouldn't I be better sthuited for the deeper notesth?"  
     "No, I can sing those. You have a larger octave range than I do, meaning you can go higher and lower, so we have to utilize that," Vinny told him, signing what words he knew with his hands.  
     "Alright, sthoundsth fair enough,"  
     With the computer telling him what buttons he was hovering over, Vinny pressed record and listened to Mark sing, the vocal map that Vinny had set up by inputting the notes for the song helping him to sing the right notes and words for the correct amount of time. Unsurprisingly, Mark sounded like an angel— his voice was so melodic and smooth, easy on the ears and beautiful enough to send shivers up and down your spine. He fumbled here and there, his voice cracking a couple times, but for the majority of it he did great, so Vinny gave him a high five and told him what he needed to fix, then pressed record again.  
     They worked for another couple hours on music— getting all of the vocals recorded and most of the instrumentals in the first song done— before deciding to take a break to eat. It was about four in the afternoon, a late lunch or early dinner depending on who you asked, neither of them really wanting to go out anywhere to get food, so they popped two frozen pizzas in the toaster oven and kicked back on Vinny's bed with a six pack of hard lemonade. "I'm really excthited for thisth mini album to be done," Mark said, the metallic pop of his bottle of lemonade punctuating his words.  
     Turning to where it sounded like Mark was, Vinny smiled a little and gave a slight nod, signing as he replied, "Me too. I feel like the lyrics we wrote are some of the best I've done in a while,"  
     "True, you're right, they're my mostht insthpired lyricsth by far, asth well. Like shit, it'sth been stho long stbince I've written sthomething I actually really enjoyed that I wasth thinking of giving up and sthwitching my major,"  
     "Why didn't you?"  
     There was a smile and a titter on the edges of Mark's voice as he answered, "Asth corny asth it sthoundsth, not being able to sthee you,"  
     Externally, Vinny rolled his eyes and laughed, but internally, his heart was leaping. "That's the gayest thing you've ever said to me,"  
     "Actually, I'm pretty sthure the gayesth thing I've ever sthaid to you isth 'I love you',"  
     Vinny furrowed his brows. "When did you say that?"  
     "Justh now,"  
     A quick kiss was planted on his lips just as the toaster oven dinged to let them know that their pizzas were ready. As he felt Mark get off the bed to take the pizzas out, Vinny's brain and chest were having two _very_ different reactions to being told that; his chest quivered with giddiness, while his brain was freaking out with anxiety, all of the warning bells in his brain going off at once, telling him that Mark was lying, no one could love him, they were moving too fast, they could never work out, he didn't even know what Mark looked like, after the project was done and they'd graduated the spark between them would fizzle out and they would lose touch, all manner of things that made no logical sense but his mind still insisted were true. God, he wanted to be with Mark so badly, wanted to kiss him every day and tell him that he loved him with more than just his voice, wanted them to move in together and make beautiful music with their bodies and not just their computers, but... but... "You okay?" Mark questioned quietly, the gentle sensation of his fingers grazing his neck sending shivers down his spine.  
     "I have really bad anxiety about relationships," Vinny told him, holding his hand on his neck.  
     Mark made an understanding noise. "Do you want us to wait?"  
     Vinny shook his head. "If we do, I'll never forgive myself. You mean more to me than my stupid fucking phobia,"  
     "A little homo," Mark said, but he was grinning, Vinny could tell.  
     "Well, that's what happens when I love you,"  
     Giggling, followed by Mark patting his cheek in an almost-slap that had Vinny grinning, all of his fears melting away into the bedsheets.

∆

     Rattling of a chain link fence brought Vinny out of his thoughts of music to the reality of what he and Mark were doing, which was breaking into a condemned building so they could swim in the pool. It was probably filthy, they were probably going to get arrested, and they were probably going to get sick from swimming in ice cold water at one am in October, but who cares? Their rebellious teen years wouldn't be over until they graduated, so they might as well break the law as much as they could now before then. "Want me to help you over?" Mark asked.  
     "Nah, I think I'll manage," Vinny responded, reaching in front of him to thread his fingers through the holes of the fence and lift himself up and over. As he was dropping down, he heard the sound of fabric tearing and feeling a tug on the back of his hoodie; upon landing on his feet, he fingered where he thought it'd been ripped and said absently, "Well, this thing's old, anyway,"  
     "I can sthtitch it up for you," Mark told him; he took his hand and held it tight as they began to walk.  
     "If you want to,"  
     "I like sthtitching, it'sth calming,"  
     Vinny allowed himself to be guided along towards what he figured was where the pool was, if the scent of stagnant water was anything to go by. "Thisth pool isthn't asth grosth asth I thought it would be," Mark told him. "You ready to get parasthitesth from thisth probably infected water?"  
     Vinny began to take off his shoes and socks. "Sure. YOLO, as they say,"  
     They both giggled, Vinny lowering his voice so he could hear Mark's rolling laugh— it was like music to his ears, the silence of the early morning in a snow day, what a spring day would sound like if it were a noise. A gentle smile gracing his lips, he continued to strip down to his shirt and boxer briefs, focusing all of his listening power on Mark; steady breathing was all that filled his ears, but it was so familiar to him, comforting and warm, as though it were a hot cup of cocoa in the winter, heating his core from the inside out. Vinny couldn't be more in love with someone if he tried, not when he was comparing the sound of their breathing to a warm drink melting the frost from his cold innards. Fingers intertwining with his cut off any more thought from his consciousness in a quick snap of his head up from its hanging position towards the source of the contact, Mark's voice speaking with a cheery inflection. "Let's jump in together,"  
     Nodding in agreement, Vinny squeezed the hand in his. Mark spoke again. "On three. One... two... three!"  
     As soon as the last syllable dropped, Vinny jumped as far as he could, Mark's hand gripping tighter and never letting go, not even when the shock of the cold water burned his skin and sent a deep freeze through his blood, straight down to his bones; upon surfacing, the chill air cut into his wet skin and he shivered. "Fuck! It's cold as sh-shit!" He cried, hearing Mark squeak and yelp the exact same thing he had.  
     "This was s-such a bad idea," Vinny hissed.  
     "At leastht w-we can sthay that we did it," Mark trembled.  
     "Bragging rights are t-totally worth hypothermia, I a-almost forgot,"  
     "Shut the f-fuck up, Vinny," As harsh as it sounded, there was still a smile in Mark's voice.  
     Vinny tried to laugh, but it was too fucking cold to get out anything more than a half-assed chortle. "D-do you want out?"  
     "Little bit, yeah. Christht it'sth cold!"  
     In response to that, Vinny splashed him, which made Mark gasp as though offended, then splash him in return; before Vinny knew what was happening, he was being pushed momentarily under water.  
     "Oh fuck," Mark whispered when Vinny resurfaced, "I think sthomeone'sth here,"  
     "What?" Vinny questioned with a cough. "How can you tell?"  
     "I sthee a light behind the—" Mark to say before being cut off by a voice in the distance.      "Whoever's here, you're trespassing!" The voice called out.  
     "Shit!" Both Vinny and Mark exclaimed, holding hands as the tug of Mark's arm helped pull Vinny through and then out of the water to his clothes. He stepped into his pants and pulled them up as best he could with wet legs and trembling fingers, shoving his feet into his shoes without his socks, his socks instead being stuffed into the pocket of his jacket along with his shirt, which he skipped over in favor of yanking his pullover hoodie over his head. Once he had his arms through the sleeves, he flailed about until he found Mark, then took off for the gate that they'd climbed, the both of them releasing high-pitched snickers that echoed in the still air of the night.

     By the time they'd made it back to Vinny's dorm, Vinny had mostly dried off, though his shoes and jeans were still somewhat damp. He fished his keys out of the front pocket of his pants and felt up the door for the knob, finding it and shoving the key in just as he picked up a muffled voice on the other side of the door. He placed his ear to the flimsy plywood and held up a finger to his lips in a silent request for quiet; inside the dorm, there were voices, but not only that, _moans,_ along with loud cries and the reverberation of bed springs. _"Joel... Fock, baby,"_ Hissed someone with an Irish accent— Jack? Mark's roommate? Seemed like it.  
      _"Jack,"_ That was Joel, definitely; his mewls and effeminate groans were very telling, to say the least. _"Ahhah~"_ He whined.  
     Vinny raised his brows and signed to Mark, "Jack and Joel are having sex in there,"  
     "Really?" Mark whispered. "It'sth about time, their sthexual tension wasth a little unbearable,"  
     A snort, Vinny turning his attention back to his snooping. Before he could put his ear back to the door, two loud voices, although slightly muffled, came through the door— swearing and grunts, followed closely by shouting in Swedish and a desperate cry. "I think they're done," Vinny updated Mark, who chuckled.  
     "We should wait a bit before we go in," Mark said.  
     "Yeah," Vinny agreed.  
     They passed the few minutes they'd decided to wait by talking music, discussing what they wanted the rest of the songs to sound like and what effects they wanted to use in what song; although Mark couldn't hear, he had an extremely good understanding of audio design and music production, and if Vinny was being honest, it only made Mark that much more attractive to him.  
     Once the five or so minutes had passed, Vinny found his way back to the door handle with his key and unlocked and opened it, discerning Mark mumbling to him, "They could've at leastht covered up,"  
     "Good thing my eyes are covered," Vinny joked as he changed out of his dirty clothes, "Want to shower with me?"  
     "Sure,"  
     Vinny grinned a bit when he heard Mark struggling to get out of his probably very damp clothes, cussing up a storm and making the floor shake, from hopping around maybe. Possibly. He stood with his arms crossed and his back leaning against the wall behind him, which had a knob on it, so it was probably the bathroom door. "Alright, thank God, I'm out of thosthe nasthty clothesth," Mark said in a low voice.  
     Vinny opened the bathroom door and let himself fall inside, hearing Mark walk up to him, then the door closing shortly after.

     According to Vinny's clock, it was almost six am when he and Mark finally decided to stop working on their project and go to bed— you'd think that Vinny would be tired of being around Mark by now, but surprisingly, he didn't feel drained at all by his presence. If anything, he was more lively, more creative and energized, almost like being with Mark was imbuing his teen years back into him via an adrenaline shot to his heart. Vinny fucking adored it. "I'm really in love you, Mark," He told him as they lay on his bed holding each other.  
     "I'd be a little upsthet if you weren't," Mark replied, a smile in his inflection, his thumb dragging across the back of Vinny's hand.  
     "Heh, yeah," Vinny muttered. He rolled over onto his back and stuck his left hand behind his head, turning up his mouth as he worked out in his mind how he wanted to word what he was going to say next. "After college, what are you going to do?" He said as he signed with his free hand— according to Mark, he was getting better at it.  
     "Bit of an odd questhtion to change the sthubject with," Mark commented, weight shifting in the bed. "I'm moving back to Cthincthinnati for a couple monthsth to see my family and friendsth before I go to California,"  
     "What's in California?"  
     "Nothing in particular, I justh like warm weather that isthn't too humid or arid. That and I've never stheen the beach,"  
     "Mm," Vinny picked at his nails even though he couldn't see them, flicking his nails over his cuticles. "In that future, do you see me there, with you?"  
     "Of coursthe I do," There was no hesitation in Mark's voice. "I wouldn't go anywhere without you,"  
     Relief flooded Vinny's body as though he were a creek during a rainstorm, a grin spreading across his face in spite of himself and his fingers finding their way into his hair to run through it. "I was hoping you'd say that,"  
     "Don't you have any plansth for after college though? I don't want you to give up on them justh to be with me, honey,"  
     "Not really. To be depressing, I was kind of just planning on going back to my parents' place, living in their guest house out back, and making music on my old computer that probably no one will ever listen to,"  
     More shifting of the bed, Mark's breathing becoming louder as Vinny felt his arms settle around him, his head resting on his chest. "Now you have me, and no lonely nightsth working on computersth will ever happen to you while I'm around,"  
     They kissed softly and with passion behind Vinny's cool exterior, where his mind was racing, his heart was thudding against his ribs, and his chest was releasing breathy whispers laced with as many loving words as he could muster. When he was with Mark, nothing else mattered, not when he had his most favourite person in the world by his side for what he sincerely hoped was the rest of his life.


End file.
